#Chocolate Milk Strain

[shaka123]

If you’re a cannabis lover who appreciates unique flavors, the Chocolate Milk strain is a must-try. Known for its indulgent chocolate and creamy aroma, this hybrid strain offers a delig…

[deesblanketfort]

5 of my favorite drink recipes for regressors ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶

As someone who generally prefers non-solid food, I often find myself making drinks for my regressed self because they bring me a very unique kind of comfort.

So here's a small (likely the first of many) compilation of recipes that I usually make for myself when regressed!

🍓 Yogurt Smoothie🍓

This one is the simplest of them all, and one I make pretty often! Though I don't think I'm the only one who does this, I came up with the recipe myself!

Ingredients: 100g or 3,5oz of a yogurt of your choice; 2/3s of a cup of milk Method: Blend them together until it's all creamy and foamy Servings: 1 cup

🍎 Apple and Banana Smoothie 🍎

My mom used to make this for me when I was a kid! Has a porridge-like texture.

Ingredients: 2 slices of apple; 2 slices of banana; a cup of milk; a tablespoon of oatmeal; a teaspoon of sugar Method: Blend it all together and serve! Servings: around 1 1/2 cups

🍋 Swiss Lemonade 🍋

Funnily enough, the "swiss lemonade" is neither swiss nor a lemonade. I'm unsure if anyone here is familiar with this one, but for me it's the best creamy drink for a sunny afternoon

Ingredients: 2 whole limes, 600ml or 20oz of cold water, a can (395ml or 13,5oz) of condensed milk Method: cut the limes in 8 pieces, without removing the peel, blend all ingredients for less than 10 seconds (blending for too long might make the drink bitter!). Strain through a fine strainer to remove rinds and serve. Servings: around 3 cups

🍼 Burnt Milk 🍼

Another one my mom used to make for me before bed, she says it's good for sore throats. Has a unique burnt/caramelized taste.

Ingredients: 1 cup of milk; 2 teaspoons of sugar; a pinch of cinnamon (or a cinnamon stick) Method: Pour the sugar on a small saucepan, cook and stir on medium. Right when the sugar starts caramelizing (burning) add the milk and stir in. Serve and sprinkle the cinnamon on your drink! Cinnamon is also good for sore throats Servings: 1 cup

🍫 Hot Chocolate 🍫

Classic? Mayhaps. But this recipe has a little special ingredient that gives it a thicker texture

Ingredients: 1 cup of milk; 3-4 tablespoons of cocoa mix powder; 2 tablespoons of corn starch (the more you add the thicker the drink's texture); a pinch of cinnamon Method: pour the milk, cocoa and corn starch on a small saucepan, cook and stir on medium until hot. Serve and sprinkle the cinnamon Servings: 1 cup

[an4stitties]

back to sch00l with an 3d

below: tips, diet (+ recipes), & workout

❤︎₊ ⊹ studying is soo important and sometimes dis0rdered eating gets in the way, so we have to do everything we can to avoid brain fog while maintaining high grades!

tips:

make sure you’re getting enough electrolytes! you can do that by drinking lots of sparkling water (or if you don't like the taste of sparkling, mix electrolyte packets into water)

eat nutritious foods! some good l0w cāl options are fruits and veggies, eggs, berries, and more

sleep is soo important to keep your brain running!! try to get at least 9 hours or more every night + sleeping helps with avoiding f00d cravings!

even if you don’t eat the rest of the day, you need to have a protein rich breakfast! that way, you’ll have plenty of energy and your blood sugar will remain low, so you’ll feel satisfied for longer

exercise is a must! every time you feel braing f0g coming, go on a walk!! you have to move your body, whether it's for 10 minutes or an hour (more on that below)

caffeine is your best friend! drink your coffee without sugar, but feel free to add a pinch of cinnamon instead!! if you don't like your coffee black, pour in some milk (either almond, coconut, or oat)

dress warm and comfortable!! being sk1nny means being cold all the time and you don't want to get sick!

don't beat yourself up for e4ting. we all make mistakes and sometimes we have to listen to our bodies and prioritise our wellbeing. just do better next time.

— ❤︎₊ ⊹

diet:

❤︎₊ ⊹ breakfast

coffee with almond milk and a pinch of cinnamon (20c4ls) + two poached/boiled eggs with vegetables (160c4ls) or 250g greek nonfat yogurt with berries (160c4ls)

❤︎₊ ⊹lunch

have two rice cakes, with a tablespoon of greek yoghurt each and use fruit/vegetables as toppings (100c4ls) + green tea with lemon to help with digestion (0c4ls)

❤︎₊ ⊹ dinner

100g canned tuna (strained of water), cucumbers, tomatoes and bell peppers (170c4ls) + lemon or cucumber water (0c4ls)

❤︎₊ ⊹ snacks

choose any three (all are 50c4ls)

40g green olives

thinly sliced cucumber with 25g sour cream

loads of veggies

one sliced apple with cinnamon

rice cake with strawberries/raspberries

cucumber with eggwhites

bunch of berries and a piece of dark chocolate

70g frozen grapes

cucumber with 60g greek yoghurt, season with red pepper flakes

total: 650-700 c4ls

— ❤︎₊ ⊹

workout:

try to walk at least 5k steps every day, focus on low impact, fat burning workouts like pilates and yoga, and remember to drink plenty of water

my workout routine

❤︎₊ ⊹ abs — 25 leg lifts — 25 stretch crunches (regular crunch, but arch your back when you lay down) — 30 russian twists — 2 minute plank

❤︎₊ ⊹ legs + butt — 100 side leg lifts (on each leg) — 50 lunges (25 on each leg) — 50 fire hydrants (each side) — 50 butt kicks — 30 squats — 25 hip thrusts

❤︎₊ ⊹ arms — 50 arm circles — 20 arm pushes (forward) — 20 arm pushes (upwards)

fav youtube workout channels

— move with nicole — lilly sabri — madeleine abeid — growwithjo — daisy keech — gloria song

alright, that's it for now. taking requests, so please lmk what you'd like to see next <33 this is like my fourth time reuploading !

(inspired by the lovely @h0neysugarfree)

pics from 📌

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Winter Drinks

Glögg and Mulled Wine

Mulled wine is a hot or warm red wine with spices and sometimes raisins.

It is alcoholic, though you can get a non-alcoholic version.

Glögg is a potent drink and is sort of like mulled wine, but in Sweden they load it up with aquavit or vodka. To top things off, add some dried fruit and nuts to eat with a spoon.

Agua Dulce

A popular treat in Costa Rica.

Take unbleached and unrefined whole sugarcane and dissolve into hot water.

Xocolatl

Pronounced “show-co-lat-til.”

From The Grapevine touts this “rich drink of the Aztecs” as the “original hot chocolate,” and it’s made with cocoa and a chili pepper.

Anijsmelk

Just soak aniseed in milk for this Dutch favorite.

The drink is commonly made with anjisblokjes, or anise sugar cubes, which are then stirred into warm milk.

Wattlecino

A unique twist on traditional coffee, is a quintessentially Australian creation that has garnered popularity for its distinctive flavour profile.

Bustle says this is a “coffee substitute made with roasted and ground wattleseed instead of coffee beans that tastes kind of hazelnutty.”

Blend of hazelnut, cinnamon, coffee, chocolate, and a hint of honey.

Rooibos Tea

Fine Dining Lovers calls this “a caffeine free alternative to black tea. Rooibos only grows in the Cederberg mountains in the southwestern part of South Africa.”

In South Africa, it’s not just a drink. It’s used for cooking and baking and is also in some cosmetics and hair color.

The word rooibos literally means “red bush.”

Colada

An Ecuadorian favorite.

Sometimes made with brown sugar and orange, it includes dry oats, which are soaked and then boiled in water with orange. Strain, then enjoy.

Sicak Sarap

Turkey’s version of mulled wine.

A cherished winter treat, especially during festive occasions.

Made by simmering red wine with spices like cinnamon, cloves, and star anise.

Often sweetened with fruits and sugar.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[i-dared-myself]

Tip Jar

Seonghwa x reader

In which a bored and overworked reader meets a sweet and kind idol

It was another busy day. Patrons bustling in and out of the doors, drinks being set down on the counter, and listening to order after order.

Dull.

That’s what your life was. Utterly dull.

Nothing exciting ever happened, not even an unusual order. It was always black coffee, or iced black coffee, and if you had to mix one more hot chocolate with extra whipped cream but no milk-

 Maybe it was time to quit your job. You hated it, and the pay was terrible. You were barely scraping by, leaning heavily into your savings because everyone tipped like shit around here.

“Hello,” you greet yet another customer. Your smile is weary and your cheeks feel strained, but your manager would immediately fire you if you so much as frowned a little bit. “How can I help you?”

“Can I get a strawberry lemonade?” the man smoothly asks. The lower portion of his face is covered in a mask, and he wears a hat that barely hides the strands of white hair peaking out.

“It’s… It’s the middle of winter.” You blink at him in surprise. 

“You’re right,” he muses, glancing out the window. Snow is falling gently. “Do you not sell lemonade in the winter?”

“Oh, no, we do.” You shake your head and force the smile back. “That’ll be six-fifty. How would you like to pay?”

He pulls out a card and taps it to the machine. You make his drink and place it down on the counter as quickly as you can before moving on to the next customer.

“Thank you,” he says gently, drawing your attention back to him. He wraps elegant fingers around the plastic cup. “Is it just you working?”

“Yes,” you answer with a tinge of exasperation coming through your voice. “My coworker called in sick half an hour ago.”

His perfectly groomed eyebrows pull together. “How awful.”

You hum, grabbing a napkin to clean up the crumbs a broken cookie left on the counter. “It is what it is.”

“Well I’ll tip you what you deserve,” he says. He tilts his head slightly. “In Korea we don’t tip, but I made sure to research what is reasonable here.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” you reply, flustered. It’s rare for you to receive tips, even though you work so hard. 

“I insist.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he reaches for the tip jar before retracting his hand. “I’m Seonghwa, by the way.”

You tell him your name before bustling back to the order station, where a woman is impatiently calling for you. By the time you look back, he’s gone.

The rest of your shift blurs by, and you’re exhausted by the end of it. Your manager empties the tip jar into your hands and pats you on the back for a job well done.

“Sorry it was so busy,” he says, smiling sympathetically. “I would help, but I had paperwork to do…”

“It’s okay.” You sigh down at the two dollars of change in your hand. “I get it.”

He patters off to a back room again, and you shoulder your bag before going home. The bus ride is long, and the entire time, you’re stewing about what that Soenghwa said.

‘I’ll tip you what you deserve.’

And he had seemed so nice. But he did say they didn’t tip in Korea, so perhaps that was the reason.

You shrug it off and forget about him for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at work the next day, tying your apron on and washing your hands. Your face still stings from the cold outside, but you smile brightly at the first one to step up to the counter.

Then the second, and the ninth, and by the time you’ve made your fiftieth plain, black coffee of the day, you want to scream.

Yes it’s nice making such simple orders, but it’s so bland and boring. How do these people all have the exact same taste in drinks?

“Remember me?” A man smiles at you, white hair framing his face. His soft pink lips pull upwards into a warm smile.

You stare at him. “Uh, yes. You! It’s so nice to see you!”

He laughs lightly. “I’m Seonghwa. Don’t worry about it, I’m not very memorable.”

Something glints in his eyes.

“What would you like?” you ask as you wipe down the expresso machine. It’s another day of just you.

“I liked that strawberry lemonade.” Seonghwa tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Anything like it?”

“Um, we have a hot chocolate? You seem like you enjoy sweet things,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I mean it’s not a cold drink but maybe you’d still like it anyways and-“

Seonghwa drums his fingers on the counter, grinning pleasantly. “Hot chocolate it is.”

You ring up his order, and he pays with his card again. You close the cap over the foamy whipped cream and slide it to him.

“Tipping you what you deserve again,” he says, eyes filled with mirth. Seonghwa takes the drink and bobs his head to you before slipping out of the shop.

“How are things going?” your manager asks as he pops his head into your section. 

“Good.” You grab a stack of cups and line them up. “Did Sarah call in sick again?”

“Yeah.” Your manager examines his nails. “Can you work a couple extra hours?”

The tone of his voice doesn’t leave it up to question.

You nod. “Yeah. No problem.”

“I’ll cover while you take a bathroom break,” he offers. His eyes flick over your face. “Why don’t you touch up your makeup too?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you shut yourself in the bathroom. You really want to quit this job. So badly. 

You exit the bathroom and re-enter the main part of the shop with a fresh smile. 

Sure it’s not a genuine one, but none of these people know that.

“You’re still here?” Seonghwa asks about four hours later, another man behind him. This one has jet black hair and a set to his jaw. “Or did I show up at the beginning of your shift.”

“No, it got extended.” You meet his eyes and you think yours are watering, but you’re too tired to care. “I’ve been here seven hours so far, three more to go.”

The man behind Seonghwa murmurs something you don’t catch, deep voice barely meeting your ears. Seonghwa replies in a language you don’t speak before facing you. “We’ll take two coffee if you can. Cream and sugar in both, please.”

You nod. “Nothing special?”

“And a cookie,” Seonghwa adds on, making the other man snort. “Oh, this is Mingi, by the way.”

Mingi inclines his head in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

You echo it back, already moving on to make their drinks. Seonghwa goes off to get a table for once, while Mingi waits.

“He’s a generous tipper?” Mingi asks as he hand him the cookie. “I had to loan him some cash today since he gave it all here, apparently.”

You frown. “Uh, yeah?”

Mingi raises an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too convinced.”

You swallow thickly. “I don’t pay much attention to those things.

Mingi scoffs. “Come on, just tell me, please? I’ll be able to hold it over his head forever.”

“Okay, first of all, I totally get that tipping is a strange thing in Korea,” you relent, “so not tipping a lot is totally okay.”

Mingi stares at you. “So he’s not tipping a lot?”

You pour the milk into the cup, mixing it with the coffee. “Not really.”

“Strange.” Minho glances back at Seonghwa who has nearly finished the cookie by now. “Because he was bragging about how well he understood tipping culture.”

“It’s totally okay, though.” You wave your hands dismissively before giving him the drinks. “Have a nice day!”

Mingi glides away back to his friend, who takes a sip of his coffee. They converse for a minute before Seonghwa approaches the counter, which is empty for once. It seems the rush has finally come to an end.

“Is something wrong with it?” you worriedly ask. 

“How much tipping is normal?” Seonghwa questions. Frustration is etched into his expression. “And why wouldn’t you tell me I was doing it wrong?”

“Uh, because we don’t know each other that well?” Your eyes widen. 

Seonghwa purses his lips. “I guess so. But how much should I be giving you? Because I’ve been giving a hundred-“

“A hundred dollars?” you hiss, cutting him off. “Seonghwa, that’s insane!”

His lips turn upwards wryly. “I haven’t been tipping that well in other places. Just for you.”

You rub at your face. “Okay, well, I haven’t been getting that money. Also why are you giving me that much?”

“Is that not how much you’re supposed to tip?” Seonghwa sheepishly says. “And for you because…”

“I’m heading out now.” Your manager scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flick between you and Seonghwa. “Is there a problem here?”

“Just complimenting your employee on her professional mannerisms.” Seonghwa smiles at your manager, nose scrunching up slightly. 

Your manager shuffled awkwardly. “Right. Thanks, I guess.”

Seonghwa watches him go before facing you again. His expression is suspiciously smooth. “Who gets the tips?”

“Uh, whoever was working at the time. We usually split it, but I was the only person here,” you explain as step around the counter and begin wiping tables down. Seonghwa trails after you. “I just don’t know where- Unless…”

“I believe your manager is taking the money,” Seonghwa grimly says, confirming your thoughts.

Mingi perks up. “Want me to go beat him up?”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head, slightly startled by the dark look to his eyes. “I wanted to quit anyways.”

The three of you are the only ones left in the shop. It’s pitch black outside, and the snow is reflecting the moonlight.

“I’m closing up in a couple of minutes,” you warn. “Last call for any insane drinks.”

“They’re not insane!” Seonghwa protests.

“You ordered lemonade in the middle of a snowstorm!” you exclaim. You motion out the window. “You’re crazy!”

Mingi clears his throat. “I’ll be outside. I want to go home sooner than later, by the way. We have a big performance tomorrow.”

“Oh, you guys preform together?” you ask curiously.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa studies your face as he says, “We’re in a K-pop band.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You nod along, bending over the table to get the side closer to the wall. You hear a stifled noise but pay it no kind. “And you’re preforming tomorrow?”

When you glance over your shoulder, Mingi is gone and Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly flushed. 

“Yup.” Seonghwa coughs. “Uh, are you going to get another job?”

You hum and place the cleaner back where you found it. “Yeah, after a couple days of messing up orders and lowering the rating on Yelp.”

Seonghwa pulls his phone out with a flourish. “Great idea. Um- Can I get your number? Just so I can check that you’re getting tipped properly at your next job.”

“Right,” you tease, taking his phone and putting your number in it. “But I won’t be upset if you text me for other reasons.”

Seonghwa looks pleased with himself as he tucks his phone away. He adjusts his scarf and his hands flex nervously. “I… I’ll remember that.”

You walk him to the door, somehow having ended up hand in hand with him. He squeezes once before releasing you and stepping to Minho’s side.

Seonghwa smiles shyly. He glances to Mingi, who is coincidentally staring at the moon. 

“Kiss me?” you hopefully ask.

Seonghwa ducks down so his lips meet yours. It’s soft and sweet, with a bit of a desperate edge to it that makes your knees weak.

“I’ll text you,” Seonghwa breathlessly says before chasing after Mingi.  

[pinksugarscrub]

Compromise

Hobie Brown x fem! reader

This is my response to the 2024 elections

word count: 1,065

~

The sky managed to encapsulate your mood perfectly. Dreary and dark with clouds soaked to the brim like sponges.

Tick

The city was surprisingly quiet. The bodega closed and Midtown students stuck indoors due to the incoming storm

Tick

You hated how quiet it was.

Tick

With a loud sigh you press down harder on the volume button. Music flooding your ears at a decibel that surely wouldn’t be healthy in the long run.

She meant well. Gwen always meant well you reasoned but that didn’t make the ache in your chest lessen.

Cold and half eaten, your dinner rests on the counter. A loud tick! managing to slip past the chorus of your favorite song.

It was his song first.

With a groan you switch to another song. A different song.

‘What if you’re too different?’

The ache in your heart makes itself known again. Traitor.

‘What do you mean?’ you laugh awkwardly.

Gwen’s eyes furrow and as much as MJ wants to speak up, she doesn’t. Just keeps her head down while idly skimming through the popcorn.

‘I mean, think about it.’ Gwen shifts. Facing you while you prepared another batch of hot chocolate. ‘He goes to protests. You do petitions.’

‘I don’t see a problem with that,’ you answer. Confused as you watch the milk bubble.

‘Ok, let me rephrase. He’s determined in his views while you are the least confrontational person I know.’

MJ cringes as she crushes a kernel between her fingers.

‘What are you going to do when you have a disagreement?’ Gwen asks.

‘Look, what are you getting at?’ you huff. Glaring down at the chocolate tablet as you plop it in the pot.

‘I don’t think this guy is right for you.’

The room goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere you worked so hard on achieving vaporizing into thin air.

This was supposed to be a relaxing night after exams. It was supposed to be an escape with your friends. Not…this.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Gwen starts. Fingers digging into the couch cushions. ‘Hobie sounds like a really sweet guy. I'm just…worried.’

‘Gwen maybe we should-’

‘No,’ you interrupt. Glancing over to MJ’s hunched form. ‘I want to hear what she has to say. Go on, say it.’

The words sound so much more condescending than you had intended but there’s an anger bubbling alongside the milk.

Gwen, never one to back down, straightens in her seat. A stubbornness you praise but now feels like a nuisance.

‘He’s anarchist! You’re a pacifist. You may want the same things but you will both do very different things to get them.’

‘You guys.’ MJ’s voice strains to be heard above the hurt. ‘Please.’

‘I don’t want you to lose your dignity over someone just because you want to please him.’ Gwen continues as her eyes narrow. ‘You’re already listening to punk music which you used to detest and what about the clothes you’re starting to buy?’

‘What about it?’

‘It isn’t you!’

‘I’m allowed to change my mind!’

‘Are you?’ She scoffs, ‘or is he doing that for you?’

You jump as a loud boom shakes the picture frames on your wall. Frantic you slid off your seat to place some distance between you and the balcony window.

One drop turns to two. Then three. Then it’s pouring so hard you feel like water will stream through any second to create an entirely new ecosystem in your living room.

Maybe the reason you were so angry, was because you knew she was right.

Slowly settling on the edge of the couch you stare at gloomy New York and she stares right back. Taunting you. Mocking you. Asking when it was your turn to break and let the tears fall.

You’re too different.

One hiccup turns to two. Then three. Then tears roll down your face while water trickles down the window pane.

You never should have yelled. You were just angry and rightfully so but Gwen was worried. She always worries. She always means well.

The lock to your apartment turns. Wet boots squishing against the welcome mat.

“Lovie it’s dangerous to leave your door unlocked. If I had been a…”

Hobie is at your side within seconds. Fruity drinks long forgotten as he pulls you into his arms.

You’re not sure what to do. The selfish parts of you don’t want to stay buried. They want to grab onto him and never let go. But how unfair would it be to keep him from finding the happiness he deserves?

“Hey, hey,” he whispers. “Talk to me darling.” Kissing the crown of your head and running his hands up and down the length of your arms.

You shake your head. A hiccup stuck in your throat as the tightness in your chest grew.

“Alright, ok. I’m right here.”

He gently coaxes your arms to wrap around his waist. When you finally respond he presses your head to his chest.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

God, who were you kidding? He was perfect for you in every way.

Hobie sways the two of you on your feet. Rubbing between your shoulders and taking deep even breaths. Soon enough, yours matches his own.

Droplets hit the rail of your balcony and suddenly you can hear the city again. Car horns and kids running down the street. The sun peaking through the clouds before hiding behind complexes and office buildings.

Slowly you pull away. Cinnamon and leather, your new favorite scent.

“Atta girl…” Hobie’s eyes are filled with worry as he reaches for you cheek. “You ready to talk?”

He smiles slightly as you nod. Pinching your cheek and forcing your eyes on him. “I’m all yours.”

You tell him everything. How sorry you are for snapping. How confused and scared you are to lose him. A future you envision and a life you want to share.

You don’t expect him to walk away but you certainly don't expect him to slide one of his rings on your finger.

“Who said I couldn’t change my mind too?” He mumbles. Kissing the knuckle adoring his ring. “Love is all about compromise innit?”

You’re left at a loss for words.

“I can’t promise you perfection. Gwendy’s right. We’ll always have our problems but at the end of the day…”

Your heart lurches as he places a kiss on your lips.

“I’ll always want you.”

-

We're not talking about sunsets, are we?

[pedge-page]

Baby Sarah and Joel playing tug of war over the tv remote has to be the funniest thing ever , Joel watching tv one night and the remote is resting on the coffee table and the channel randomly changes and he turns to see Sarah just pressing buttons then joel immediately takes it to change the channel back and the brat fusses and tries slapping Joel’s hands and biting even having to get reader involved in the mix

Joel Dealing with Sarah: Theatrics

warnings: none :)

- - - -

Joel is fucking exhausted. Yeah he says that a lot, but damnit, that’s what happens when you have a pregnant monster for 9 months and then a whole ass baby monster for the next year!

You had gone to bed right after dinner with little Sarah. There may have been a debacle about Joel buying the wrong flavor of chocolate chip cookies despite you specifically saying regular chocolate chip earlier. He grabbed the raisins by mistake, and now he’s condemned to the couch (for the next hour or so till you’re out cold and won’t remember whether he was in bed with you or not).

It works out, though. He sighs heavily, propping  one foot then the other over the coffee table with his cup of decaffeinated tea. The house is quiet for once. He gets alone time for once. 

Scrolling through the saved tapes on the DVR, he finally finds the last home renovation episodes he’s missed these past few weeks. He chucks the remote somewhere, sits back, and turns his brain off for some quality Joel time.

The poorly acting woman goes on about the gorgeously boring white paint they’re gonna splash over the entire kitchen when suddenly the Jigsaw puppet creepy thing jumps on the screen and nearly sends Joel over the couch with a heart attack.

He looks around for the damn remote he must have nudged with his thigh when he spots his diapered one year old sitting upright next to him, the remote the size of her entire arm sitting in her lap with both hands on the bottoms. 

“Jesus—fuck kid. Where did you come from???” He whispers, looking around wondering if you put her here mysteriously without being noticed.

Sarah smiles with her gummy mouth like she’s not at all disturbed by the contents of the TV.

“Aight kid, gimme the remote, it’s not a toy—“ as he reaches for the devices, she yanks it back furthest away from him.

“Hey! Listen to me right now—“ he leans further, his arm outstretched in front—when she clamps down with her little gums.

“AY! SARAH! NO bitting!” He grits his teeth and reaches again but Sarah whines and slaps his bitten hand repeatedly with the remote. He manages to push a button, but she snatches it right back and hits another. The TV flashes between channels, volumes and mute, and different inputs like its having seizure as Joel and Sarah loudly grunt and whine at each other, tugging it back and forth.

Joel’s partially amazed at the incredible gripper strength she has on the remote, refusing the let it part from her tiny fingers that are latched on law claws. That, and the fact that she’s pulling enough strength that he isn’t sending her flying over his shoulder is making him wonder what kind of muscle milk you must be feeding her.

“Let GO!” He shouts, his arm straining with one hand on the remote, but she puts that big back in it and is yanking back towards her way with both of her baby paws tightly secured around its middle.

The TV is at full volume now, as are their angry growling at one another. So much that neither of them realize you had gotten up and were standing right behind the couch, rubbing your eyes viciously at the scene.

“WHAT—“

Joel and Sarah stop and turn, frightened by mom-zilla, who’s at her worst when she’s prematurely awaken. 

“IS. GOING. ON.”

Joel opens his mouth, ready to get the little brat in trouble and have a shout when sneaky little Sarah immediately lets go of the remote and launches herself back, crying loudly. She makes heavy eye contact with you through tears and her pained wailing while rubbing her chunky arm, squeezing her little lids shut so that the tears fall fat across her puffy cheeks. All while Joel’s got the remote tightly gripped in his hand.

“Joel!” You rush to pick up your baby and cradle her to your chest, which she totally nuzzles into.

“I didn’t do anything!” He shouts incredulously, and perhaps a little too off tone because there’s no way you didn’t see her just fake her injury by pretending he hit her. “She’s faking it! You saw!”

On cue, Sarah screams harder into your shoulder, huffing up and down like she can’t catch her breath. 

You wave your hand over to shush him. then you point to the couch. “Rest of the week. You. here.” 

He bites his tongue hard as the two of you walk back to your bedroom. He catches the minx give a little glance back over your shoulder with a toothless grin. 

If he could wring that child, he would. But he knows he’s gotta wait before he can start cooking her for real.

The theatrics of Sarah Miller are strong enough to rival your own.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

"We've got some stuff to talk about."

Megumi watches as Kota's little sock-clad feet swing back and forth while he sits in his chair at the table in the middle of the staff room of the veterinary clinic. He's eating some of the chocolate covered mushroom-shaped cookies the vet keeps tucked away in the back corner of one of the tallest cabinets out of sight, with a glass of milk.

At the counter on the opposite side of the room, Yuuji is slicing him an apple. Megumi stands at his side.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Yuuji asks him under his breath, in response to the answer Megumi had just provided him about who this kid is and why he looks just like him. "He's clearly—"

Yuuji's voice pitches up a little too loudly and both men quickly glance over at the little boy on the other side of the room, who is watching them curiously. Yuuji smiles, though Megumi can see just how strained it is from up close, and then the two men shift away so their backs are to the child once more.

"Fushiguro, that's clearly your kid."

"Not possible," Megumi replies immediately, and he means it. Sure he'd thought the same thing when he first saw the boy, but with every passing moment he's come more firmly to the conclusion that it simply isn't plausible. There's just no way.

Right?

"Hey, Kota-chan?" Yuuji calls over his shoulder, still hacking away at the apple in his hands. "When's your birthday?"

Kota's lips purse, a smudge of chocolate next to his mouth.

"I dunno," the little boy replies.

Both of the men hold back their groans.

"Mama never bought you presents and gave you cake after she sang you a song?" Yuuji tries again.

Kota's eyes light up and he nods. "Yeah!"

Yuuji laughs a little at how the child's expression has changed. "What was the weather like outside that day?"

Kota seems to think very hard about this new information. "There was snow outside. Mama made a snowman with me and then we went inside to eat cake."

Megumi watches as Yuuji does the calculation in his head. It takes a while.

"Kota told me he's four, so who were you seeing in the... late winter or early spring five years ago?" he finally works out the math and asks his friend from the corner of his mouth.

Megumi thinks back, though reluctantly.

"No one," he says finally, upon a moment of reflection.

Yuuji looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel.

"What are you doing, by the way?" Megumi asks, watching Yuuji drag the knife along one of the apple slices, peeling away only a small section of the skin.

"Making bunnies," Yuuji replies, holding one up for Megumi to see.

It does kind of look like a bunny, he has to admit, with two little bits of the peel cut out into points. It's not the most realistic rendition he's ever seen, but it's a close enough approximation. He watches as Yuuji sets the last rabbit-esque slice onto a plate and carries it over to Kota at the table.

"Here you go," he says with a smile, setting the plate down in front of the boy.

Megumi can practically see the sparkles in the child's eyes when he looks at the slices of fruit.

"Bunnies!" he says, beaming up at Yuuji. The pink haired man returns his smile with an equal enthusiasm. The boy picks up a slice immediately, holding it up to his face to appreciate it. "Mama puts bunnies in my lunch sometimes."

Yuuji's smile falters a little. "Hey, Kota-chan, is there anything else you can tell me about your mama? She must be really worried about you, you know."

Kota's lips curl into a sad little frown. He avoids Yuuji's eyes. "Mama was working, and I knew she wouldn't let me help the bunny if I told her because she was really busy, but I had to help him."

Yuuji softens a bit, huffing out a breath. He plops a hand down into Kota's dark hair, ruffling it gently. "You're not in trouble, buddy. And you did help the bunny. But we've gotta try and get you home now, okay?"

Kota nods a little.

"You said your mama works nearby right?" Yuuji asks, and again Kota nods. "And it's a restaurant?" Another nod. "What does mama do there?"

"She brings people their food! And she brings them drinks!" Kota replies.

A server, obviously.

"Okay, good job, Kota. I'm gonna see if I can figure out how to get you home, alright?"

The little boy nods, taking a bite of his apple slice.

Yuuji approaches Megumi, still hovering on the other side of the kitchen. "I'm gonna give Nanamin a call and see if anything's come in about a missing kid at the station, if not I'll jog around the block and check the local restaurants. You stay with Kota and write me down a list of all the women you've—"

Both men look over at Kota, who's watching them raptly with a cheek full of apple.

"—been friends with." Yuuji finishes his sentence strangely, but Megumi gets the message anyway.

The dark haired man feels heat flare in his cheeks, grabbing Yuuji by the front of his shirt before he can step away.

"I've always been very..."—he glances over at the child on the other side of the room—"careful with my friends."

Yuuji understands what he means.

"You can never be careful enough," he remarks pointedly, albeit a bit awkwardly—his cheeks are a little bit pink now too.

Yuuji and Megumi don't ever talk about stuff like this, at least not in such specific detail. This is the kind of conversation Yuuji'd have with his friend Todo, or maybe Nobara, and the kind of conversation Megumi would rather take with him to the grave.

Megumi grits his teeth. "I'm not making a list."

"Fushigu—"

"I don't need one. It doesn't merit the paper." Megumi cuts him off, his cheeks burning so hot he's surprised the room hasn't gotten brighter. Yuuji's eyes widen a little as he processes the admission. Megumi's never really been one to sleep around, and while he's had a few long-term partners, none of them were around the time that Kota would have been born. Plus Megumi's relationships all ended relatively amicably—he'd have known if one of his exes had a baby. "I'm telling you, it doesn't make sense."

Yuuji nods a bit, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Alright, alright," he says. "Let me go call Nanamin and we'll get this figured out."

Megumi watches as his friend steps out through the doorway to the staff kitchen, breathing out a long, weary sigh once he's gone.

"Erm—Doctor Shiguro?"

Megumi freezes, glancing over at the little boy at the table. He'd sort of momentarily forgotten he was even there.

Kota is sitting at the table, rubbing at his eyes with his small fist.

Megumi looks at him expectantly.

"I'm sticky," Kota says, holding up his hands with his fingers splayed.

The man blinks for a moment, and then nods, retrieving a small bit of paper towel and running it under the tap to dampen it. He brings it over to Kota, handing it to the boy, but the child sticks both of his hands out. Megumi hesitates and then takes one of his small hands in his own, sweeping the damp towel across it.

He repeats the motion with the second hand, making sure to get any lingering stickiness off of his smooth skin. His hand is incredibly tiny, Megumi can't help but notice—there are dogs he'd tended to with larger paws than Kota's little hand.

Once Kota's hands are clean, Megumi glances up at his face. His eyelids are drooping, and the man realizes it's quite late for such a young boy to be awake (and eating snacks no less.) That smudge of chocolate is still on Kota's cheek, so Megumi wipes it away with the damp towel too.

"Doctor Shiguro?" Kota mumbles tiredly.

"Fushiguro," Megumi gently corrects him.

"Is my bunny really gonna be okay?" the little boy asks, rubbing at his eyes again.

Megumi thinks back to the way Kota had the little rabbit held against his chest underneath his coat to protect it from the rain; how desperately he'd asked him, a stranger, for his help; how scary it must have been for such a little boy to be out so late, in such a bad storm, all alone.

He nods.

"Yeah, he'll be alright."

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Late night drives.

Welcome to the beginning of my short little blurb series! Authorial Note: First person is Quinn Hughes! Enjoy!

-

Nothing felt more euphoric than holding your boyfriend's hand, half-sitting, half-standing on the seat of the convertible car he rented and peeking over the top of the windshield. Hair flying every which way as you breathed in the salt air, moonlight reflecting in glistening stars off of the windswept water. Gentle waves lapped at the peer and boats pulled on their moorings causing the wood to creak under the weight.

"Sit down, love!" Quinn laughed, eyes flicking over towards you briefly before landing back on the road. Making sure to stay on his side of the double white line.

You sat back in your seat, the straining seatbelt relaxing and finding it's place back against your chest, the soft skin-warmed leather sticking to your skin. "This is my favourite date ever Quinny!"

He turned to you, his honeycomb eyes sparkling, his love dancing in the irises. Bringing your hand to his mouth as his eyes glanced back to watch the road, the black tar winding into the dense forest as the ocean gave way to rocky shoals.

"Check in the back." He leaned ever closer and partly yelled over the wind, hand leaving yours as he allowed you the room to check behind the seats where he had sowed a small picnic basket, filled to the brim with goodies and sweets alike.

Pulling it over and delving into the brown woven basket, the red cloth cradling the mini sandwiches and sweet little cupcakes and cookies. Lollies and chocolates stored in a little plastic tub. You pulled out a handful of gummies, in particular chocolate covered raspberries.

The chocolatey sweetness, exploding in a burst on your tongue. You looked over and a smile graced Quinn's lips, he opened his mouth. "Give me one!"

You reached over and placed one on his tongue, the milk chocolate melting under the heat of your fingers. Quinn grabbed your hand and and licked the melted chocolate from the crevices of the pad of your thumb and index finger.

You giggle as he worked your hand over throughly before splattering kiss all over the back of it. Together laughing as you polished off the snacks and cans of drink he packed.

Driving under the stars, hand in hand nothing but the love tinted haze enveloping the two of you as the back of the red convertible disappeared into the musky, green forest.

Love between you two people, secrets held only by the wind whistling through the trees and the person beside you. You wanted it to stay that way forever.

And forever it did.

[shaka123]

Chocolate Milk Strain

Introduction

If you’re a cannabis lover who appreciates unique flavors, the Chocolate Milk strain is a must-try. Known for its indulgent chocolate and creamy aroma, this hybrid strain offers a delightful combination of taste and effects, making it a favorite for both recreational and medicinal users. You can explore this strain and more on our website: NaturesMedicines.com.

Genetics and Origins

Chocolate Milk is a hybrid strain resulting from a cross between potent parent strains. Though exact lineage details may vary, its genetics often include hints of rich, earthy, and sweet-flavored strains. These genetics provide a well-balanced high, offering relaxation with a creative boost.

Genetics and Origins

Chocolate Milk is a hybrid strain resulting from a cross between potent parent strains. Though exact lineage details may vary, its genetics often include hints of rich, earthy, and sweet-flavored strains. These genetics provide a well-balanced high, offering relaxation with a creative boost.

Aroma and Flavor Profile

True to its name, the Chocolate Milk strain boasts a unique terpene profile, delivering rich chocolatey notes with a creamy, smooth finish. Underlying hints of sweetness and earthiness make it a sensory treat. Perfect for those seeking a dessert-like cannabis experience, its flavor sets it apart from traditional strains.

Appearance

The buds of Chocolate Milk are visually appealing, with dense structures coated in a layer of glistening trichomes. Shades of green, brown, and orange hairs weave together, reflecting its chocolate-inspired name.

Effects and Benefits

The Chocolate Milk strain provides a balanced high, offering a gentle euphoria and deep relaxation. Users often report feeling a wave of creativity and calmness, making it ideal for unwinding after a long day or indulging in creative activities.

Therapeutic Benefits:

Alleviates stress and anxiety

Enhances mood

Reduces mild pain and inflammation

THC and CBD Content

With THC levels typically ranging between 18-24%, Chocolate Milk is a potent strain suited for experienced users. It contains minimal CBD, emphasizing its psychoactive effects over therapeutic ones. Beginners should approach this strain with caution due to its strength.

Growing Chocolate Milk Strain

Cultivating Chocolate Milk cannabis is moderately challenging, making it suitable for growers with some experience.

Indoor Growing: Prefers controlled environments with consistent temperatures.

Outdoor Growing: Thrives in warm, sunny climates.

Harvest Time: Expect flowering in 8-10 weeks, with high yields when properly cared for.

Pairing Chocolate Milk Strain with Experiences

Chocolate Milk is perfect for low-key evenings, creative pursuits, or relaxed social gatherings. Whether you’re enjoying music, sketching, or simply unwinding, this strain complements any experience. For the best results, consider vaping or using a clean glass pipe to savor its rich flavor.

Find Chocolate Milk Strain Near You

Looking to try Chocolate Milk strain? Visit one of our shops in these locations:

Uxbridge, Massachusetts

Fall River, Massachusetts

Wareham, Massachusetts

Emmett Township, Michigan

Wayne, Michigan

Or shop conveniently online at NaturesMedicines.com to discover a wide range of premium cannabis products made in the USA.

Conclusion

The Chocolate Milk strain is a unique blend of indulgent flavors and relaxing effects, making it a go-to option for those seeking a special cannabis experience. Its chocolatey aroma, balanced effects, and versatility ensure it stands out in the cannabis world. Visit us today and elevate your cannabis journey!

[nicnak20]

Dumped:

*Two people meet after getting dumped by their significant others.*

Nicholas stared blankly at the chipped ceramic mug in his hands, the lukewarm coffee long forgotten. The café buzzed around him, a cacophony of indistinct chatter and the clatter of cups, but he remained in a bubble of quiet devastation. Just an hour ago, Amelia, his Amelia of three years, had ended things.

He was kind, everyone told him so. Kind Nicholas. Sweet Nicholas. And now, dumped Nicholas. The irony stung sharper than the bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He had been devoted to Amelia, doting on her, showering her with affection, understanding her moods, always patient, always there. He was protective, not in a possessive way, but in a way that made sure she felt safe and cherished. He was warm, gentle, and he thought, smart enough to know love when he felt it. Or perhaps he wasn't smart at all.

Amelia had said, “It’s not you, Nicholas, it’s me.” The oldest cliché in the book, and yet, he’d desperately wanted to believe her. Because the alternative, that it was him, was too painful to contemplate. She said she needed to find herself, that she felt stifled, that his kindness, his very best qualities, were somehow… too much.

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, his brown eyes reflecting the dull ache in his chest. He was usually cheerful, always trying to see the bright side, but today, the sun felt like a personal affront.

He sighed, the sound lost in the café’s hum. He should probably leave, go home, and… what? Stare at the walls? The thought was deeply unappealing. He took a small sip of the cold coffee, grimacing.

Across the café, Yn was having a similar moment of existential dread, though hers was masked more gracefully. Her own coffee, equally neglected, sat before her. Her posture was elegant, spine straight, but her gaze was distant, fixed on the swirling milk in her cup as if it held the answers to the universe’s cruel jokes.

Just an hour and fifteen minutes ago, Daniel, her Daniel of four years, had declared that he needed “space to grow.” Space to grow. As if their relationship had been some sort of constricting pot, hindering his blossoming. She, who had been kind, yes, always kind, and sweet, patiently navigating his moods, understanding his ambitions, offering unwavering support. She was warm, gentle, doting on him, devoted to their shared dreams, caring for him in every way she knew how. Loving him with every fiber of her being. Affectionate, yes, openly so. Smart enough to build a career, smart enough to build a life, or so she thought.

Daniel had said she was “too good,” that he felt unworthy, that he couldn't keep up with her… warmth. Her kindness. Apparently being kind and loving was now a flaw.

She had dark hair, like rich chocolate, and eyes the same warm brown as Nicholas. Usually, they sparkled with intelligence and laughter, but today, they were clouded with a quiet sadness. She was patient, understanding, normally cheerful, but the cheerfulness felt brittle, strained.

She took a deep breath and finally looked up, her gaze sweeping across the café. It was then she noticed him. A man sitting alone, across the room, looking just as lost and adrift as she felt. He had dark brown hair and the saddest brown eyes she had ever seen. There was a palpable aura of gentle dejection around him.

Their eyes met, just for a fleeting moment, but in that brief connection, Yn saw a flicker of recognition, a shared understanding of unspoken sorrow. It was gone as quickly as it came, he looked away, staring back into his coffee. But the moment lingered in the air between them.

Yn felt a strange pull, an almost magnetic draw towards this stranger who seemed to carry the same weight of recent heartbreak. Hesitantly, she gathered her purse and stood up, her movements graceful even in her current state of inner turmoil.

She walked towards his table, her heart beating a strange rhythm in her chest. It wasn't a romantic flutter, not yet, but something else, something akin to… kinship? She stopped beside his table, her shadow falling across his.

Nicholas looked up, startled. He blinked, focusing on the woman standing beside him. She was beautiful, with kind eyes and a gentle expression that mirrored the warmth he usually felt inside. He noticed the slight tremor in her hand as she held her purse, the vulnerability in her gaze.

“Excuse me,” Yn said, her voice soft, a little hesitant. “I… I couldn’t help but notice…” She trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish and intrusive.

Nicholas straightened up slightly, his brow furrowed with polite confusion. “Yes?” he prompted gently.

Yn took a breath. “You just… you looked… like you were having a really bad day.” It sounded incredibly awkward and presumptuous, even to her own ears. She wanted to backtrack, to apologize and disappear, but something held her rooted to the spot.

A small, almost imperceptible smile touched Nicholas’s lips. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You noticed?” he said, a hint of wry humor in his voice. “I thought I was being discreetly miserable.”

Yn chuckled softly, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Discreetly miserable is an art form, you know. And you were… radiating it.” She gestured vaguely with her hand. “I’m Yn, by the way.” She extended her hand.

Nicholas hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took her hand, his touch gentle and warm. “Nicholas,” he replied, his voice a low, pleasant baritone. “And yes, you’re right. Discreet misery isn’t exactly my forte today.”

Their hands lingered for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a silent exchange of empathy passing between them. Then Yn gently withdrew hers.

“Mind if I… join you?” she asked, indicating the empty chair across from him.

Nicholas blinked again, surprised but also strangely relieved. “Please,” he said, gesturing to the chair.

Yn sat down, placing her purse on the table. A comfortable silence settled between them for a moment, punctuated only by the café’s background noise.

“So…” Yn began, breaking the silence, “bad day?” she prompted again, with a gentle smile.

Nicholas sighed, a deeper sigh this time, one that seemed to carry a weight of unspoken emotion. “Understatement of the year,” he admitted. “Just got… well, dumped. By my girlfriend.”

Yn nodded, her expression sympathetic. “Me too,” she confessed quietly. “Boyfriend. An hour and fifteen minutes ago, give or take.”

A look of surprise, and then recognition, dawned on Nicholas’s face. “Seriously?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Today?”

Yn nodded again. “Today. Seems to be dumping day for the romantically challenged.”

Nicholas chuckled, a genuine, slightly louder chuckle this time. “Maybe we should form a club. ‘The Recently Dumped and Utterly Confused’ club.”

Yn laughed, a brighter, more melodic sound. “I’d join that club,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement despite the underlying sadness. “President and Vice-President maybe?”

“Co-presidents,” Nicholas corrected, smiling warmly at her. “No power struggles in this club. Just shared misery and… coffee?” He gestured to their neglected mugs.

“Definitely need fresh coffee for this,” Yn agreed, pushing her mug slightly away. “And maybe… comfort food?”

“Comfort food sounds excellent,” Nicholas readily agreed. “What’s your comfort food of choice in times of romantic catastrophe?”

“Anything chocolate, really,” Yn admitted with a sheepish grin. “Dark chocolate. The darker the better, to match the mood.”

“Dark chocolate is an excellent idea,” Nicholas said. “Though I was leaning towards something… carb-heavy. Maybe cinnamon rolls?”

“Cinnamon rolls and dark chocolate?” Yn suggested, her eyes widening. “That’s… that’s actually perfect. A balanced diet of despair and deliciousness.”

They both laughed, the sound lighter, freer this time. They ordered fresh coffees and a plate of cinnamon rolls to share. As they talked, they found themselves effortlessly sharing details of their breakups, not in a bitter, accusatory way, but with a gentle understanding and surprising humor. They discovered that their ex-partners, while different people, had used remarkably similar excuses. “Needing space,” “finding themselves,” “too good for me” – the clichés piled up, becoming almost comical in their shared absurdity.

They talked for hours, about everything and nothing. They discovered their shared love for old movies, their passion for hiking, their mutual appreciation for quiet evenings with a good book. They found they had a similar way of looking at the world, a gentle kindness that seemed to resonate between them.

As the afternoon drew to a close, the café began to empty. The warmth of the coffee and the sweetness of the cinnamon rolls had chased away some of the chill of their earlier heartbreak. The sadness was still there, a dull ache in the background, but it was softened, somehow lighter.

“This was…” Yn started, hesitating slightly. “This was actually really nice, Nicholas. Thank you.”

Nicholas smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his brown eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Thank you, Yn. I was… not looking forward to going home and staring at my walls. This was… unexpectedly lovely.”

He paused, then took a breath. “Maybe… maybe we could do this again?” he suggested, his voice a little tentative. “The ‘Recently Dumped and Utterly Confused’ club, having another meeting?”

Yn’s smile widened, her brown eyes sparkling again, the sadness momentarily eclipsed by a flicker of hope. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Co-President Nicholas,” she said, her voice warm and gentle. “Maybe next time, we can try ice cream with sprinkles? For extra cheerfulness?”

“Ice cream with sprinkles sounds perfect,” Nicholas agreed, his heart feeling a little lighter than it had felt all day. As they walked out of the café together, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows behind them, a fragile seed of something new, something hopeful, began to sprout in the space where heartbreak had recently taken root. It was still too early to call it romance, perhaps not even friendship yet, but it was a connection, a shared path starting to unfold, paved with kindness, understanding, and the promise of more shared cinnamon rolls and ice cream to come. And in the quiet aftermath of their separate storms, that felt like more than enough to begin with.

[cottonlemonade]

hello there!! I was wondering if you could do menu A with chocolate milk, purin and mochi??? I will be sitting next to Ennoshita!! Thank you!! 😊😊

Part-Timing At The Same Job

word count: 663 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: Ennoshita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: fluffy, part-timing at the same job with boyfriend Ennoshita

“It could be worse.”

“How?”

“Uhm…”, Chikara rubbed thoughtfully at the back of his neck.

After a few moments he seemed to have found a point to make, “You’d have to do everything one by one with a really leaky watering can.”

You opened your mouth to argue but closed it begrudgingly. Wearing the scowl of a lifetime, you let your eyes wander over the many rows of long metal folding tables, the surfaces hardly visible beneath all the leaves and blossoms.

A few hours ago, when your boss came up to you, phone to her ear and a no-nonsense kind of look in her eyes and had asked you and your boyfriend to stay late and take over watering in the garden center, you were quick to agree. How long could it take to water some plants?

Yet somehow you seemed to have severely underestimated the task. Without the many customers walking along the tightly packed rows of green and blocking a lot of your view, the sheer amount of plants was overwhelming. And all you wanted to do was spend a relaxing movie night with your boyfriend.

Said boyfriend rolled up his sleeves and clapped his hands twice, making you involuntarily stand to attention.

“Alright. I’ll take these, you take the bonsai and orchids. If we hurry, we can still grab some take-out on the way to your house.”

With a salute you hurried away to prepare a couple buckets with water to sink the plants into.

It was dull work and you were very glad you didn’t have to do it in the pressing summer heat of the afternoon. But although the air wasn’t as soupy as it was earlier, you still felt beads of sweat rolling down your brow, neck and arms as you dunked, pushed down and then lifted the newly watered plants out of the buckets back onto their respective tables.

Your shoulders started to protest under the repeated unfamiliar strain but you kept focussing on the goal.

You had started the part-time job to afford a new bicycle so you wouldn’t have to keep using the rickety old thing your brother so graciously let you borrow - for a price, of course. It was rusty and hard to peddle and held together by duct tape and good thoughts if nothing else. With your own new bike you could not only get to school without having to rely on the rather unreliable bus but (mainly) you could go on romantic rides with Chikara, have a picnic maybe and cloud gaze without getting constantly interrupted by your brother making kissing noises or his mom who kept poking her head through his bedroom door and asked if you had enough snacks.

Using the last bit of shirt that wasn’t completely drenched to wipe your brow you headed for the bigger section where Chikara was struggling with the hose having caught on one the table legs.

“Almost done.”, he announced when you came closer, “Just one more flower.”

“Hm?”, you were too exhausted to catch his playful grin and it was too late when he already pointed the hose at you.

“No!”, you yelled and ran away but as if you could ever outrun a volleyball player.

His arm quickly wrapped around your chubby middle and pulled you back into him, giving him the opportunity to give your face a little spritz of water. Still giggling you turned to him and interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

“That was actually really nice.“, you admitted with a surprised frown, “This heat is ridiculous. - We should go to the lake this weekend.“

Chikara nodded happily and leaned down for a kiss.

So lost in utter contentment of his lips on yours you didn‘t notice how he raised the hose again, spraying it into the air above you two for a light refreshing shower.

He held you tightly at the waist so you couldn‘t get away and silenced any pouty protests with more kisses.

a/n: thank you so much for this cute request! Thinking about him working at a garden center is so soft ☺️ please enjoy!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 11

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The first time is supposed to hurt, right? It’s not always romantic, often clumsy, sometimes awkward. It wasn’t most of those things but you don’t know how to describe it. You lay staring at the ceiling, trying to untangle the riddle between your legs.

The faint tingle plucks at you. There were moments you were begging for more, others when you were praying he’d stop. It all blends together in a confusion jumble. You don’t know exactly how it felt or how you feel.

The steady ebb and flow of his breaths and low gristly snores whisper hotly into your scalp. You lay in discomfort, arms still bound behind you, though the gag droops down around your neck. You wiggle and struggle to roll over, facing August and his abnormally serene features. Really tired himself out, didn’t he?

What does it mean? You did all that and now he’s sleeping in your bed. Naturally…

You grunt and crush your hands under you as you sit up. You groan at the knot beneath your shoulder blade and the strain of muscle along your arms. God, you’re all cramped up.

You stand and gently pad around the room. It’s not very late at all. The alarm clock shaped like a lime beams out 10:37pm. Hmm, you would’ve thought him a night owl considering his line of work. Thinking of, shouldn’t he be outside a door barking at coeds?

You leave the room and scurry down the hall. You take your time on the stares, nervous you might fall over, and get down to the first floor. You go into the kitchen and flip on the light with your nose. Good thing your parents won’t be home, you don’t expect you could explain the belt around your wrists or your nudity.

You go to a drawer and turn your back to it. You slide it open and feel around blindly. You find a knife and angle it carefully in your fingers. You like the belt but your hands are throbbing.

You saw at the braided leather for a while. It falls away and the buckle clinks on the tile loudly. You gather up the remnants and toss them in the trash. Ugh, you feel better.

You go back upstairs, hoping to cover yourself up in something cozy. You enter the room and turn on the lights, eliciting a grumble from the man in your bed. Augusts rolls onto his back with his usual growl.

“Turn it off.”

You ignore him and go to your dresser, sliding open a drawer and pulling out your favourite nightie. The one with the little hearts all over it. He snarls again as the bed frame creaks and you turn to face him with the nightie, the knife poking up in your right hand. He sits up as his muscles tense across his chest.

You shake your head at him and open the top of the nightie to step into it. You shimmy up the fabric awkwardly, carefully not to poke yourself with the knife.

“I need to be able to see, sleepy head,” you chide.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, barrelling towards you. He surprises you as he chops at your wrist and you drop the knife as you recoil and catch the nightie before it can slump back down under your chest. You slide the straps up and let out a whine.

“What was that for?”

He bends and picks up the knife, pointing it at you, “don’t threaten me.”

“What? No, I… I used it to cut the belt. I just forgot–”

“Stupid girls shouldn’t play with knives,” he pokes you with the tip.

“Neither should you,” you stick out your tongue and step back, “god, that’s dangerous, you know?”

He gives you a look, that look you’ve got a million times before. As if what you’re saying is stupidly obvious and it is. He needs to put that down.

“Anyway, I was going to make some hot chocolate,” you shrug and turn back, “so do you want some? I have white or milk chocolate–”

“No,” he snips and lowers the knife.

“Coffee?” You offer, “tea?”

You sweep out of the room as you hold up a finger, thinking. Where did you– You dip into the bathroom as you pass it and retrieve your phone. You sense him behind you, not close, but following you.

“What are you doing?” He grits out.

“I told you, hot chocolate.”

“Give me the phone.”

“No,” you keep on, hopping down the stairs as you key into the phone.

“Give–”

“I’m just changing my status, take a chill pill, old man,” you toss over your shoulder as you get to the bottom of the stairs, “what do you think is better; taken or it’s complicated?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you are holding a knife so maybe the latter,” you suggest as you continue on to the kitchen. You hit save as you blindly go to the stove and move the kettle onto the burner with one hand. “Done.”

“Done what?” He sneers as he fills the doorway with his large figure, naked and shameless. You give him a look and grab your father’s apron from its hook. You approach him and hold it out.

He glares at you and puffs. He snatches the apron and throws the knife into the sink. He ties it around his waist so you can’t see the silly moniker across the front; Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’.

You put your phone on the counter and open a cupboard. He gets closer, looming just behind you. You take out the jar of cocoa mix and glance back as he squints at your phone.

"We're not dating," he growls.

"Um, okay, that's not what it seems like to me."

"I mean it, that wasn't–"

"Look, you call it what you want, going steady, a situationship."

He's silent. He huffs through his nostrils and backs away from your phone.

"Crazy…" he mutters.

"Pardon?" You grin in his direction.

"I have to get to work," he enunciates clearly as he shakes his head, "uh, bye."

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

Some of my favorite easy and fast foods/snacks for $5 or less that aren't ramen and spaghetti:

Couscous. You can get boxed couscous for like $3 and it's enough for 2-3 side dishes at least and takes literally 5 minutes and no extra ingredients. You can get large containers of it for like $5 at Walmart too so you can season however you want. A nice grain that's easy to digest and pairs well with almost anything.

Popcorn. Everyone's favorite healthy junk food that can satisfy most cravings. You can usually get a box for like $4 or a jar of kernels for like $6.

Oats. Whole oats. Extremely versatile. Put them in smoothies, make cookies, granola, snack bars/balls, brownies, oatmeal, etc. Truly the best bland fiber and filler out there. You can even easily make your own oatmilk for super cheap by blending them with water and straining!

Frozen veggies. Last for months in the freezer and usually under $2 a bag. Not great if you prefer raw veggies, but if you are fond of sautéed or roasted ones, save some money and just get them frozen.

Chocolate chips. Cheaper than chocolate bars and you get a lot more chocolate. Perfect for those cravings!

Powdered potatoes. I know I know but if you ignore the package directions and put some butter and milk and seasonings in it, you can't tell. Ready in like 2 minutes and you get a shit ton of mashed potatoes for like $2.

Vegan Mac and cheese. I'm lactose intolerant and so I will forever be thankful for the vegan movement of the early 2010s for making nondairy products easier to find and more affordable. Vegan Mac and cheese literally tastes the exact same and bakes so well. Annie's so far has been my favorite brand and they have other pastas with sauces too like squash which is so good.

Crepes. You can make your own batter for cheap but who likes all them dishes? You can find pre-made crepes for like $3 for 10.

Apples. You can find 2lb bags of these for $3 at a lot of places. I never knew they were so cheap and I go through phases where I'll eat like 4 a day.

Lunch meat. Packs of turkey cost like $4. I use turkey on so much. Bagels, omelets, salads, sandwiches, wraps, croissants, etc.

Ready to bake pastries. I'm not a big bread person but croissants ready to bake have my whole heart and cinnamon rolls can really help make a bad day a little better.

Pretzels. I'm an absolute whore for Pretzels and eat so many of these things. They're so easy to pack for snacks for class or anything really. I can't go two weeks without them.

Rice crisps. Rice cakes are great but they're big and crumbly and get stale if you don't close the bag JUST right. But little Rice crisps??? Elite. They come in so many flavors and are super crunchy and they're just super cute too and they're bogo a lot at publix.

Frozen potstickers. You can get them for so cheap and I have a giant bag of them in my freezer right now that I got for like $7. I usually get smaller portions for $4 or so though but decided to splurge and get 3lbs of them cus why not.

Frozen shrimp. A bag of extra small Frozen shrimp is about $5 at Walmart. Eat them thawed and cold or put them in pastas or rice or Soups. They're a staple in my house.

These are just a few I could think of off the top of my head. Please add to the list!

[smalltowngnoll]

Borovan Experiment

Happy belated Borovan Day!

Here's a redo on the official Neopets recipe.

I decided to nix the broth, cooking the asparagus directly in the milk. I opted for a more decadent hot chocolate.

A little more asparagus flavor at 4 spears.

Ingredients

1 c milk

4 to 6 asparagus spears

1/4 c chocolate chips

2 TBS cocoa powder

1 1/2 tsp corn starch

Pinch of salt

1/2 tsp amaro

Recipe

In a small sauce pan, simmer milk and asparagus. Remove from heat and strain. Use asparagus for garnish.

In a sauce pan, put the chocolate, cocoa powder, cornstarch.

Add a quarter cup of the asparagus milk. Whisk until you make a thick paste.

Add remaining milk and amaro. Whisk on low heat until it begins to thicken.

Serve with an asparagus spear.

[nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki]

I made a dark chocolate and blackberry cake to honor Morrigan.

This cake embodies the dark elegance and strength associated with Morrigan, with the bittersweet blackberries and dark chocolate representing the depth of her power and the transition between life and death.

Ingredients

Cake

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 ½ cups sugar

¾ cup black cocoa powder

1 ½ tsp baking powder

1 ½ tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

2 large eggs

1 cup whole milk

½ cup vegetable oil

2 tsp vanilla extract

1 cup boiling water

1 cup fresh blackberries (for the filling)

Blackberry filling

2 cups fresh blackberries

½ cup sugar

1 tbsp lemon juice

1 tbsp cornstarch mixed with 1 tbsp water

Blackberry buttercream frosting

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

4 cups powdered sugar

½ cup blackberry puree (strained for smoothness)

1 tsp vanilla extract

Purple gel food coloring (to intensify the blackberry hue)

Dark chocolate ganache

8 oz dark chocolate, chopped

1 cup heavy cream

Decorations

Black fondant roses

Dark chocolate shards with a swirl of purple luster dust

Instructions

Bake the cake:

Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C.) Grease and line two 8-inch round cake pans.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Add the eggs, milk, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract. Beat on medium speed until smooth.

Carefully pour in the boiling water and mix until the batter is thin and smooth.

Divide the batter evenly between the pans and bake for 30-35 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Allow the cakes to cool in the pans for 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

2. Prepare the blackberry filling:

In a saucepan, combine blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice. Cook over medium heat until the blackberries break down, about 10 minutes.

Stir in the cornstarch mixture and cook for an additional 2 minutes until the filling thickens.

Remove from heat and let cool completely before using.

3. Make the blackberry buttercream:

In a mixer, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy.

Gradually add powdered sugar, beating until smooth.

Add blackberry puree and vanilla extract. Mix until the color is consistent.

Add a few drops of purple gel food coloring to intensify the color.

Continue beating until the frosting is light and fluffy.

4. Assemble the cake:

Place one cake layer on a serving plate and spread an even layer of blackberry filling on top. Place the second layer on top and press gently.

Frost the cake with the blackberry buttercream, smoothing the sides and top.

5. Prepare the dark chocolate ganache:

Heat the heavy cream in a small saucepan until it begins to simmer.

Pour the hot cream over the chopped dark chocolate in a bowl and let sit for 2-3 minutes.

Stir until smooth and glossy, then let it cool slightly.

Pour the ganache over the top of the cake, letting it drip down the sides for a dramatic effect.

6. Garnish:

Place the dark chocolate shards and black fondant roses on top of the cake. The shards represent Morrigan's fierce, warlike aspect, while the black roses symbolize transformation and mystery.

7. Serve:

To honor Morrigan, consider setting a small piece aside as an offering during a ritual, accompanied by a quiet moment of reflection or a short prayer.